


to draw, you must close your eyes and sing

by thetruthmayvary



Series: of all lies, art is the least untrue [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Artists, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-06
Updated: 2012-11-06
Packaged: 2017-11-18 02:56:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetruthmayvary/pseuds/thetruthmayvary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's an artist and Niall is (unfortunately) not a musician and they meet in a park.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to draw, you must close your eyes and sing

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a quote by Picasso (which I quite like)

Niall doesn't usually pretend to be sick to skip work, so this is an unusual term of events.

There is just something about the way the sun peeks shyly from the clouds decorating the sky, and the light breeze that's just strong enough to gift everything with soft movement, that makes him decide he cannot handle being stuck in an office today. 

After all, this kind of weather is a rare treat when you live in London, and should definitely be appreciated. 

So instead of driving to Haringey, where the marketing agency he works for is placed, he takes a walk towards a nearby park, the one he has never been in, even though it's just a block away from his apartment. 

If he was being completely honest with himself, he would admit that the weather isn't the only reason that made him call his boss that morning – he hasn't been feeling like himself lately (well, ever since he left college, actually), and being cramped into that tiny office of his only makes the matter worse. He thinks that a day off might help him clear his head and possibly realize what is it exactly that makes him feel like he just doesn't belong anymore. 

The park is filled with people, but Niall doesn't mind – they all look happy and carefree, and he thinks that that's what he probably looked like two years back. 

He sees a couple of teenagers hanging out on a bench and concludes that they must be skipping class. He remembers all the times Louis convinced  him to skip, coming up with ridiculously convincing reasons why they will benefit more from roaming around the malls or sneaking into movies theatres than sitting in class and listening to boring lectures. 

He sees a young woman with two laughing children trailing after her, and he can't keep a smile from colouring his face when one of them, a little boy with soft blonde curls and sparkling eyes, waves his tiny hand at him. 

He sees an old couple strolling around, their wrinkled fingers intertwined, and he wonders if he'll ever be lucky enough to find someone who will want to hold his hand after so many years. 

He sees people talking, laughing, running, breathing and just  _living_  and he sees that it's exactly what he needed to see. 

People at work are different. Or maybe it's just that a different side of them is the only one he’s presented with. It's all business and competition and accusations and stamping over people like they're fucking ants and Niall has actually stopped considering them human beings and started thinking they're just robots who sold their souls (do robots even have souls?)to their fucking jobs. 

So seeing normal people living their lives and actually enjoying themselves in the process is like a breath of fresh air. 

He walks further down into the park, where fewer people are occupying the benches and the tree trunks have a stricter policy about letting the rays of sun pass their guard. He notices a group of people standing around something and a girl sitting in the chair opposite from them, and since today he's feeling quite curious he approaches them and sees that they're not gathered around something, but  _someone._

Someone Niall can tell is beautiful, even if he's looking at him from behind, with his dark hair and jean jacket and tattooed arms. He doesn't usually find guys like that attractive but that doesn't stop him from admitting that this guy is gorgeous. 

He is drawing, hence the reason for the girl and the gathered people peering over his head, and  _fuck_ , is he talented. Niall can see his hand moving effortlessly, copying the girl's facial features on the piece of paper with the ease that shouldn't have been possible. His fingers are smoothing the lines, creating shadows and shades and Niall wishes he was that good at something. Anything.

He stands there staring at him until he finishes, rolls the drawing gently and hands it over to the smiling girl. He stands there even after the girl and her friends leave and doesn't even consider the fact that he's being incredibly awkward. 

The artist looks at him now, a smirk playing on his lips and Niall is forced to conclude that he's even more beautiful from the front. He thinks that he might be a little  _too_  beautiful. 

“Do you want me to do you?” 

Niall isn't sure he heard that correctly.

“What?” 

“Do you want a portrait?” He speaks slowly, emphasizing every word and Niall wonders if he should feel insulted and if the dark-haired guy's first question was intentionally misleading. 

He also wonders what the hell is he supposed to do with a portrait of himself. 

“Yeah,” he still says, because it's hard to say no when those hazel eyes are boring into you. He'll send the drawing to his mum for Christmas or something.

“Take a seat,”  the guy says, pointing his thin finger towards the chair across from his.

Niall listens to him, not quite sure what kind of pose he's supposed to strike. He settles for just straightening up and putting his hands in his lap.

The artist smiles as he prepares his tools, instructs him to pull his chin up and then gets down to work.

Niall can see his eyes fluttering from the paper to his face, again and again and he feels a little self-conscious as this gorgeous lad inspects every inch of his face.

He feels his cheeks warming up and he groans internally because, shit, hasn't he already embarrassed himself enough.

The artist obviously notices he’s blushing, because he smirks again and his eyes fill with quiet amusement.

“Sorry,”  Niall says because he needs to say something.

“I hate apologies,”  the artist responds and it's not really the answer Niall expected.

“You're really good...At drawing, I mean.”

The boy just smiles, but Niall is content because his smile is mesmerizing.

“What's your name?” he asks and he truly wants to know.

“Zayn.”

“I'm Niall.”

“Nice to meet you Niall, now please be quiet because I'm trying to draw your lips and that's hard to do when they're moving.”

Niall stays silent for the rest of the time it takes Zayn to finish the portrait, even though he would rather distract himself from staring at those hazel eyes by talking.

Zayn rolls up the paper and ties it up in a bow, and Niall assumes that he's not in the habit of showing people what they're paying for before they actually pay.

He takes it and pays him nevertheless, says “Thank you” as a polite chap he is, but when he turns hesitantly to leave, Zayn's words stop him 

“I'm done with work for today.”

Niall can't be sure if that's an invitation or just a fact so he lingers there, smiling slightly, waiting for him to say something else.

Which he does pretty quickly.

“And you look like you have nothing to do.”

“Do I?” Does he really look that pathetic?

He doesn't dwell on that question long, because it seems like Zayn actually wants to spend time with him or something and how could he feel like a loser after that.

“Yes,” Zayn says, “so you might want to take a walk with me.”

Niall thinks the word might isn't necessary, but he nods and says “Okay” and leaves that part out.

Zayn gathers up his things, carries the two chairs (well one chair actually, Niall carries the other) behind the ice-cream stand nearby and doesn't really offer any explanation so Niall doesn't ask.

The two of them start walking towards the park exit after that and Zayn doesn't seem to mind him talking anymore because he keeps firing questions at him.

“Do you draw?” He asks as they pass those skipping-class teenagers Niall saw before.

“No, I'm absolute shit at it to be honest.”

Zayn looks startled, as if he thought that everybody draws. That it was like breathing or eating or something. Niall doesn't really understand.

“So how do you get it out then?” 

“Get what out?” For someone who transfers the world onto a piece of paper so easily, Zayn isn't very good at transferring his thoughts into words.

“Everything. How do you express yourself?”

“I don't know,” Niall says, but then thinks about it for a moment and adds, ” through music, I guess.”

“So you're a musician then?”

“Ha!” Niall chokes out, “I wish. No, I work as an assistant in a marketing agency. I just love playing my guitar when I get a chance.”

“Do you like being an assistant?” Zayn asks but looks like he already knows the answer.

“No, I hate it actually,” Niall admits because somehow, admitting stuff to Zayn is easy.

“So why aren't you a musician?”

 “It's not that simple.”

 “Yes it is. What's the point of life if you're not who you want to be?”

 “Are you who you want to be?” Niall asks since asking is simpler than answering.

 “I'm trying to be, which is more than can be said about you.”

The words would have sounded judgemental coming from somebody else, but Zayn only makes them sound like the truth. Niall concludes that Zayn doesn't really do judgemental.

He doesn't respond, there's no point in saying „You're right“.

They exit the park, but they keep on walking. Niall has no idea where they're going, but he doesn't mind.

Zayn keeps asking him questions, so Niall talks about his family, about Ireland, about music and his favourite food, and it all sounds so boring to him, but Zayn doesn't seem to agree.

He asks him about his friends so Niall tells him about Liam, and how he's probably the nicest person ever, and about Louis, and how he's probably the craziest person ever.

Zayn doesn't talk much about himself and Niall considers getting to know him a challenge, but one that he is very eager to accept.

So far, he manages to find out that he's from Bradford, but has been living in London since he was 16, that he's been drawing since he was 6, and that he loves Michael Jackson, Power rangers and having snacks in the middle of the night. He concludes that he isn't doing a bad job. 

Zayn stops him in front of a coffee shop named Steven's and Niall doesn't even have the time to comment on how bad that name is for a coffee shop, because Zayn urges him in, while explaining that his friend works there and that they could use a cup of tea. 

The place isn't the kind Niall usually goes to, it's a little too hipsterish for that, but The Kooks are playing in the background and everybody is smiling so Niall likes it.

Zayn leads him to the counter, to where a green-eyed boy in a beanie is singing quietly to himself, rocking his head to the music.

“Harry,” Zayn greets, sits on the stool and Niall joins him. 

“Hey Zaynie,” Harry greets back. "You brought a friend," he adds and the way he says it implies that that isn't a very often occurrence. 

Niall smiles and introduces himself, “I'm Niall.” 

“Harry,” Harry says and takes his hand, “You're Irish.”

“I am,” Niall laughs. 

“So what can I get you? Zayn will have his blueberry tea because he's a freak, but I'm sure you'll make a much better choice than that. Maybe Yorkshire?”

Niall laughs again, “I should introduce you to my friend Louis, if you love Yorshire tea he proclaims you his best friend straight away. But yeah, okay, I'll have that.” 

“Is Louis fit? Because if he is, then you definitely should introduce me.” 

“Okay, Haz, no using Niall to help you get laid,” Zayn cuts in. 

Harry grins, and Niall concludes that he's almost as pretty as Zayn. 

“So how did the two of you meet? And why haven't you ever mentioned him before?”

“Because we met today. He ran away from work because he hates it and then I draw him, and here we are.”

“I didn't run away,” Niall complains, “I'm sick.”

“You look pretty healthy to me,” Harry says, and hands them their cups of tea.

“Or just pretty,” Zayn adds and nudges him with his elbow, and Niall is speechless because he just touched him and called him pretty and he wants to be touched some more. He also blushes again, but is less concerned about it than before because Zayn must have figured out by now what kind of effect he has on him. 

Harry laughs at his reaction, and gives Zayn a knowing look, but then gets distracted by a red-haired lad who approaches the counter.

“Hey Ed!” he says, and Ed greets him back and orders a latte, and the two of them start talking about a gig Ed did last night, which according to Harry was bloody brilliant. Niall wonders if Harry is friends with everybody at the shop.

Niall and Zayn finish their tea, but stay there for quite some while. They talk to each other and to Harry when he's isn't busy serving other customers with drinks and conversation (and Niall wasn't wrong earlier, Harry really does seem to be friends with the majority of customers), and they laugh and Zayn touches him a couple of times more (just a brush of the hand or a hand on the back, but still) and when they finally get up to leave, they notice that it's already dark outside.

“So about that Louis guy,” Harry says as Niall pulls on his sweater, “maybe you could give me his number so I could check for myself if he's really as great as you make him sound.”

Niall doesn't think Louis would resent him for giving a fit guy his number, so he writes it down for him before they leave.

They walk back to the park, falling in comfortable silence now and then, the kind Niall never thought he'll experience with someone he just met.

“You didn't even look at it,” Zayn suddenly says, and Niall wouldn't even know what he's talking about if he didn't notice his eyes are directed at the rolled up  drawing he's still clutching in his hand.

Again, there's no judgement in Zayn's voice, only curiosity.

“I didn't think you wanted me to,” Niall responds, “otherwise you wouldn't have tied it up without showing it to me.”

“Are you going to throw it away?”

“What? No! Why would I do that?” 

“I wouldn't be offended if you did,”  Zayn says honestly, “it's not really my best work anyway, I was too distracted.”  He shrugs and Niall thinks about protesting to that  _not really my best work bit_  but the fact that Zayn could find him distractive blurs his mind for a moment. 

They stop at a crossroads, each of them having to take a different route to their respective apartments and Niall starts feeling nervous because he isn't quite sure how he’s supposed to say goodbye. Should they hug or would that be weird? Shaking hands doesn't seem appropriate either and a kiss might be hoping for too much.

But then Zayn asks “Do you want to come home with me?” and Niall realizes that he doesn't think saying goodbye is necessary at all.

 “Is that the same kind of question as ‘Do you want me to do you?’” 

“No, this one really is a sex offer,”  Zayn says while looking him straight in the eyes. 

“Just sex?” Niall needs to make sure, because expectations lead to disappointment. 

“Is it ever just sex?” Zayn asks simply. 

Niall thinks about it a little, and comes to an easy conclusion. “Yeah.” 

Zayn laughs. “See, that's a lie. It's never just sex. It might be just sex  _and_  a no phone call later, or just sex  _and_  an awkward encounter after a few months, but it's never  _just_  sex. 

“So is this one of those? No phone call or an awkward encounter?”

“Well, I was thinking more of just sex and a nice breakfast where you could tell me more about your music and your friends and where we could swap numbers and agree to meet again so I could convince you to quit your fucking job and pursue a career you'll actually love so you can be happy, because you seem like someone who deserves that.”

Zayn steps closer as he says that and Niall isn't sure if it’s his vicinity or his words that leave him standing there in silence like an idiot.

“And then hopefully some more sex later,”  Zayn adds and Niall smiles because it’s like he just added the cherry on the top of the cake.

He still doesn't say anything though, so Zayn repeats his question.

“So, do you want to come home with me?”

Niall feels like skipping work and taking a walk through the park today was the best fucking idea he ever had, and he congratulates himself on that before giving Zayn a response.

“Yeah, I really do.”


End file.
